Some distance away, concealed in the deep shadow of the woods, the old woman -- known only as Madam Eva -- spoke to a tall, hooded figure standing beside her. The air around them crackled with an unseen energy.
MADAM EVA: (Her voice, low and dry as autumn leaves) It is done. The interruption was successful. The path is diverted.
HOODED FIGURE: The instructions were specific. Only the trauma necessary to cease his trajectory.. Was the transfer effective?
MADAM EVA: The Observer's blood runs true in him. He registered the mark. The seed of doubt is planted. It is enough to draw her out. His life plan is ruined; destiny opens his eyes through suffering. He will no longer be focused on his precious microscopes.
HOODED FIGURE: The parents. They believe they have secured her.
MADAM EVA: (A cold chuckle) Their support and their secrecy are merely anchors that have already snapped. They worried it would happen again; well, their worries have substance now. The universe is not kind to those who hide the ancient oaths. They thought Luna would be safe. They thought wrong. Now the Observer's heir has been sacrificed to call the Keeper's heir forward. The clock starts.
HOODED FIGURE: What is the contingency if he does not...embrace the shift? If he chooses to fight the path?
MADAM EVA: Then we let him rot in that modern machine they call a hospital. But the blood calls out. The pain is a siren. He will awaken a new man, consumed by a rage against his destiny. A rage that only a new purpose can quench. He will search for the reason. He will search for the cause and the search will lead him directly to the girl. Our work here is complete.
MONTHS LATER:
The sterile white of the hospital room was a prison. I opened my eyes to the sound of a ventilator's rhythmic whoosh and the soft weeping of my mother in the chair beside me. My leg was encased in hardware, my ribs were taped, and my promising future was a smoking ruin a junkyard four hours from here.
I had survived. I had cheated death, but at the cost of everything. My medical school deferred my enrollment, but the unspoken truth was that my six months of rehab and permanent nerve damage had essentially ended my surgical career before it began.
I looked at my family -- my parents worn thin with worry, Maya and Leo looking at me with painful pity. They kept repeating how grateful they were that I was alive.
But I felt no gratitude. Only a cold, burning sense of injustice.
My internal monologue: My destiny? I earned my destiny! Twelve hours a day, Rishi! I put in the work! Now look at me. A wreak. A patient instead of a doctor. Who did this? Why me? The police called it a 'hit-and-run' - a random act of violence. But I saw her. The woman. That chilling, satisfied smile. It wasn't random.
I stared at the ceiling, my muscles twitching with phantom pain. The meticulous planning of my life was shattered. And in its place, a fierce, desperate anger began to take root.
An anger directed not at the drunk driver the police searched for, but at the unseen force that had rippled the wheel from my hands. I felt fury at the cruel, random twist of fate.
"I will find out why," I whispered, ethe words rasping from my dry throat.
"I will find out who hit me. And I will find out who that woman was. My destiny tried to kill me, but it failed. Now, it owes me a life."
The path to the research lab was closed. A new, darker path had just opened up -- a relentless quest for answers and retribution. The Observer's heir was awake and he was hunting.